


Desk Work

by tessykins



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Desk Sex, M/M, Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-08-02
Updated: 2007-08-02
Packaged: 2017-10-19 13:38:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/201460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tessykins/pseuds/tessykins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Claude is a fake paper salesman and has sex with Peter on top of his desk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desk Work

**Author's Note:**

> This somehow ended up having a tiny bit of plot; major AU plot, too. Claude is still working for the Company in NYC when he meets Peter. My guess is that Peter doesn’t know Claude’s secret occupation, because I was too lazy to deal with what might happen if Peter _did_ know.

“I knew you were more than just a paper salesman.” Claude looks up from his desk of paperwork at the unexpected comment. He smiles when he sees Peter leaning against the doorframe. The boy steps into his office, trailing the scent of rain and shaking his wet umbrella. “You must be some sort of agent of a secret conspiracy, because there is no way that selling paper would keep you working until,” Peter glances at his watch, “nearly ten at night.”

Claude scowls at the paper atop his desk and shrugs. Peter drops his umbrella and shucks his coat, leaving both by the doorway. He perches on the edge of Claude’s desk with a blinding smile. He pokes the pile of paper around him. “You do too much paperwork,” he laughs. “Are you going to be coming home tonight, or do I need to take care of myself?” Peter pouted, looking up at Claude through his lashes.

Claude scowls and looks away. He always has trouble saying no to Peter’s pouting lips. “’m sorry, Pete. I’ve got too much to do tonight.”

Peter cocks his head to the side, considering. Then he laughs and leans over to kiss Claude, shoving aside a stack of paperwork. Claude shot to his feet, ready to berate the boy for adding to his workload. Peter just smirks and wraps his legs around Claude’s waist. The boy wiggles in that way he knows drives Claude absolutely crazy, and Claude can barely hold back a moan. Here and now, with Peter determined to get naked, Claude has no choice but to give in.

“Fine,” he sighs. “Never do today what ya can do tomorrow.”

And on that note, he kisses Peter. The boy’s mouth opens to him immediately; a sweet surrendering that Claude will never get sick of. His tongue slides into Peter’s mouth as he wraps a hand around the back of his neck. Peter gasps as their lips melt together in a crescendo of heat. Peter’s arms tangle around his neck as Claude pulls them closer together. Their bodies and mouths sway until Peter is panting and Claude is sweating.

Finally getting frustrated, Claude pulls the empath off the desk. Peter whimpers at the loss of contact, hands clenching in the fabric of his shirt. With one sweep of his arm, Claude knocks everything off of his desk. Peter giggles in delight—though the boy will deny that later—and Claude tosses him down on the desk. He fumbles at the buttons of Peter’s shirt before ripping it open. He ignores the sound of buttons pinging around his office in favor of appreciating his beautiful boy. All bright smooth skin and darkened eyes. Claude can’t resist worshipping him a little and leans down to kiss down Peter’s chest. He sucks of row of marks into the empath’s collarbone as he fumbles to open Peter’s pants.

Peter gasps and throws his head back. Claude has a moment to smugly appreciate the sight before Peter’s hands are back, tugging at his belt. Claude bites off a gasp and works to loosen his tie. His hands fly across the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel skin on skin. Peter’s hands tighten on his hips, pulling their bodies closer together. “Don’t bother,” the boy pants, “I need you now.”

Claude moans and devours Peter’s mouth. Their tongues twine together as their breaths mingle. Claude pulls back, nipping at the boy’s swollen lower lip. He manages to untangle Peter’s legs from around his waist long enough to yank off Peter’s pants and boxers. Moving back into the empath’s embrace, Claude reaches for his own pants, but Peter beats him to it. Peter rips open Claude’s fly and pulls out his hard cock. Claude throws his head back, mind whiting out for a moment. “God, Peter…” Peter smiles smugly and teases him with a long smooth stroke.

Before the boy can distract him too much, Claude pulls away just enough to gather his thoughts. “Don’t suppose that ya thought to bring anything with ya, Pete?” Peter smiled impishly and points to his discarded pants. Bending down, Claude chuckles as he pulls a packet of lube out of the pants pocket. “What a bright boy,” he murmurs against Peter’s skin. Peter squirms at the ticklish touch, fingers threading into Claude’s hair to encourage him. Claude kisses a path up the boy’s chest before claiming him mouth again.

Pulling away with a gasp, Claude rips open the plastic tube, grimacing at the chemical taste. He quickly slicks his fingers and slips one into Peter. Peter grunts at the unexpected intrusion but quickly relaxes. He wriggles against Claude’s hand, pushing back for more. Claude slips in another finger, and then a third, until Peter is sweating and shoving back at every thrust of his hand. “Get on with it, Claude,” the boy growls impatiently, his voice tinged with a needy whine.

Claude has never been able to resist that tone in Peter’s voice. He pulls out his wallet and the emergency condom he always keeps there; rolls the rubber on and the drops the wallet to the floor. He slicks his hard cock and positions himself against Peter. “Remember to breathe,” he murmurs against the boy’s ear. Claude slides in, pushing gently. They both gasp and Claude can feel Peter’s trembling fingers wrapped around his shoulders.

Peter’s back arches and the boy locks his legs around Claude’s waist, pulling Claude all the way in. Their bodies crash together like waves. Claude has to bury his face in the crook of the boy’s neck against the overload of sensations. “ _Fuck_ me, Claude,” Peter grits out between clenched teeth.

Claude huffs out a surprised laugh and pulls back in a slow agonizing glide. He can see Peter start to open his mouth to complain and thrusts back in. Peter cries out as Claude slams into him, the force very nearly rocking the desk and sending pen and paper flying everywhere. The next few thrusts slide Peter’s back across the smooth desktop as the boy lets out little pained moans. Peter reaches up and wraps his hand around the edge of the desk, gaining leverage to push back. Peter lifts to meet the next thrust and groans as their hips collide.

Claude licks his hand obscenely and reaches down to grasp Peter’s erection. Peter moans and thrashes as Claude starts to stroke him—his hand slips sideways and grasps something metal. Claude gives one particularly brutal thrust and Peter slams the object against the desk surface with a muffled bang. Claude looks up in a bemused daze to find that the boy is clutching Claude’s name plate. In the back of his mind, Claude can’t help but laugh at that; the rest of him, however, is entirely focused on his beautiful empath. Claude pulls the boy’s hips to the edge of the desk and changes the angle, hitching one of Peter’s legs over his arm. Peter cries out and arches up against him.

With each thrust, Peter slams the name plate against the desk. The sight of Peter splayed out naked on his desk, one hand wrapped around his Company-issued name plate, is almost unbearable. Claude leans in, pressing the together chest-to-chest, heart-to-heart. He tightens his hand around Peter’s cock, stroking hard and fast. Peter tenses, his body shaking in Claude’s arms. “Fuck—fuck—Claude, I’m-- _now_ ,” Peter moans helplessly and comes all over Claude’s work shirt. Claude thrusts again and bites deeply at Peter’s shoulder. He groans the boy’s name and comes, his senses full of _Peter_.

They lie there for a few moments, gasping together. Then Peter squirms and pushes lightly at Claude’s chest. Claude pulls away as Peter pushes himself up on to his elbows. He glances sheepishly at the name plate he’s still clutching and smiles. “I…uh…think I broke your name plate.” Claude looks to his much-abused name plate. His brow furrows as he quickly observes that Peter’s super-strength had thoroughly crumpled the thing.

Claude chuckles and kisses the boy until he stops worrying. “’s all right. Never liked it anyway.”

They’re quiet, enjoying each other in easy silence as they gather their clothes and leave Claude’s office. Outside the building, the rain that followed Peter in has only gotten worse. Peter opens his umbrella; Claude takes it from his hand and holds it over the both of them. Peter bumps their shoulders together and smiles. “You should work late more often.”


End file.
